Winter Souffle
by lizzoturner
Summary: The echoes of Clara Oswald have nothing in common. Except for two things: the Doctor and a man named James Buchanan Barnes. James Buchanan Barnes. Also known as the Winter Soldier. He does as he is told by HYDRA and has no memories. That is, until he meets a woman whose name keeps changing. Is it the same woman? Or are his memories that mucked up? And who is Steve?
1. December 7, 1941

December 7, 1941

The world was at war. Again. Clara began to feel nostalgic about war and she could not understand why. She was only twenty-one years old. How could she feel like she experienced all the horrors and pain of war? She felt so useless not being able to help, especially since she just finished nursing school. Clara hid away her feelings and focused on unpacking the boxes strewn all over the floor in her new home.

Clara and her father had recently moved from England after the fall of France to New York City. The place to be. Where her father believed they would be safe from the Nazis finding him and forcing him to join their scientific teams. One man in particular, Johann Schmidt, was becoming very interested in her father and his work. Her father, David Oswald, was a chemist and physicist researching a possible new element. Schmidt believed, if discovered, the element could help him and help win the war. He never stated which side would win the war.

Naturally, her father decided to flee to America with Clara and become lost in the sea of unknown people flooding New York City. David was extremely thorough and covered up all their tracks. He made it look like they stayed at a hotel that was bombed by the German Blitz in London and were dead. He even changed their names and adopted a New York accent and encouraged Clara to do so as well.

She was Clara Oswald no more. Now she was Connie Oswin.

After they settled into their new apartment in Brooklyn, Connie began to make friends with their next door neighbors. Her father immediately took a job at Stark Industries. She particularly became fond of Bonnie, a girl the same age as Clara and a brilliant dancer. Bonnie helped teach Clara to dance and every night, once she got good, they would go dancing. Clara was finally getting used to the peace and enjoyment in America, even adopting a New York accent and getting used to being called Connie, when she heard President Roosevelt on the radio with breaking news.

The day that would now live in infamy. December 7, 1941. Japan attacked the US naval port at Pearl Harbor. The whole country seemed to go silent and freeze as they heard about the horrid event. Clara was on the brink of tears as she clutched Bonnie and listened to the president speak of this catastrophic event. She knew what would happen next and dreaded it.

That night the girls decided to stay home and Clara could barely sleep. The next day the United States was officially at war. Clara's father, now being called John Oswin, was at work almost every day and was only home for a few hours a night. All he could tell Clara, when she saw him, was that he and a few select others were working with Mr. Stark on a top secret military project.

Soon, Clara saw a bunch of young men in military uniforms all over the city. She gave each one that looked at her a slight smile before walking away. She did not go dancing as much with Bonnie anymore. It just did not seem right to Clara to be having fun when so many young men were getting ready to be shipped off to war.

One night in March 1942 as she was listening to the radio she heard an advertisement stating the army needed nurses. Clara sat up straight as she listened to the rest of the advert. She began to plan on going to enlist in the army the next day. She could not sit around the radio all day and be useless, not using her schooling as a nurse to use. Her father was helping the war effort. Young men her age and not much older were all jumping to fight for their country. She had to be useful. Maybe she would even get lucky enough to go to England and feel the dewy grass on her feet once again.

She waited up all night for her father to tell him her plan. He arrived home at two in the morning. He looked exhausted yet exhilarated.

"Hi dad," Clara said, standing up from the couch.

John Oswin jumped, "Oh, Connie, you scared me. You should be sleeping." He looked at his daughter and saw the determined look on her face. "Something on your mind?" he inquired while tugging on his tie.

She eagerly nodded, "Well it seems like everyone but me is helping the war effort. I want to join the army. Finally be able to use my nursing schooling."

John ran his fingers through his hair, "I guess there is no point in telling you that it is too dangerous or you are too young is there?"

"No," Clara sternly replied.

He sighed, shaking his head, "Just like your mother. Determined. Alright."

She jumped in the air triumphantly, "Oh thank you, daddy! I am going to enlist tomorrow!"

"Now hold on a minute, there are some things I would like to address. First, you have to enlist as Connie Oswin. Second, we are not English anymore. I finally got us to be US citizens, with the help of Mr. Stark. That means no more English accent or terminology. Lastly, there are going to be questions about where you went to school. Tell them you lived with an aunt as a child in England and only just moved back home when you graduated from nursing school. Understood?"

Clara nodded, "Of course. I'm so excited!"

The next morning, Clara ran to the nearest army enlistment office and signed up to be a nurse. The closest office was in the Stark Expo. The building was packed with young boys all wanting to sign up and many were already in uniform. After filling out the necessary paperwork she sat in the waiting room waiting for her name to be called. The room was surprisingly empty considering how packed the rest of the building was. She guessed most of the boys who wanted to join were not eligible.

She looked around the room and saw a few girls about her age nervously waiting to be called. There were also some men in uniform that were talking among themselves. She looked at the door when she heard it open.

A young man in his early twenties entered and Clara's heart skipped a beat. He was tall with brown hair peeking under his hat and stunning blue eyes. He was in uniform and Clara could not help but admit he looked dashing. He caught Clara looking at him and smirked.

Her heart beat faster and she felt her face flush. She quickly looked away and looked down at some papers she was holding. She kept looking at the floor and heard footsteps coming close to her. Dark brown shiny shoes were pointed right in front of her and she stopped breathing. Realizing this, she took a quick breath and looked up. He had his hat in his hands and was staring straight at her with his piercing blue eyes. His dark brown hair parted on the left. He was smiling at her with perfect white teeth. She could not help but smile back at him.

"Hi," he beamed at her.

"Hi," Clara answered. Oh, she thought, he's very eloquent.

"Is that seat taken?" He asked, pointing to the empty seat next to her.

"Oh just sit down," Clara replied, rolling her eyes at him but still smiling. He grinned at her and sat next to her, spine straight.

"James Buchanan Barnes," he said holding his hand towards her.

"Cl-Connie Oswin," she replied blushing at the fact she almost spilled her real name to a man she just met. They shook hands and Clara felt her whole body get hot. She tossed her hair behind her shoulder trying to cool down her burning neck. "Quite a mouthful of a name you've got there."

He laughed. The sound was like music to Clara's tiny ears. "Yeah you could say that." He was smiling, "Just between you and me," he leaned towards her, "I rather like it, as exorbitant as it is."

Clara smirked at him, "Hmm, I bet you do."

"Most people just call me Bucky though."

"Bucky, eh? I like that."

"I'm glad I have your approval."

"As you should be. I'm not an easy person to please." Her eyes widened at what she just said and Bucky laughed again. This time she joined in.

"So why does the Army have the great privilege of being honored with your presence today?"

Clara stopped smiling as she answered, "I'm going to become an Army nurse. I decided last night and I am rather determined."

"I bet you are." He winked at her causing her to blush. She was glad he was trying to keep the conversation light. "In fact, I bet you are going to be the best nurse the Army could ever ask for. I bet you're gonna help save hundreds of men."

Clara cocked an eyebrow, "You got that impression from just meeting me?"

"I'm very perceptive," he replied, devilishly smiling.

She raised her eyebrows, "Mmm-hmm."

Their conversation was interrupted by a nurse calling in one of the girls sitting in the waiting room. When she left Clara took a deep breath and saw her hands were shaking. She made fists in her lap and held onto her papers tighter. Bucky must have noticed this for he almost immediately resumed their conversation.

"Hey, are you planning on going to the Stark Expo tonight?"

Clara stared at him for a moment before answering, "Maybe."

This was all the encouragement the confident soldier needed, "Well, me and this buddy of mine are planning on going tonight and I was just thinking you would like to come with me to the Expo."

Clara smiled, "Okay." She did want to see the elusive Mr. Stark. The man who had immediately employed her father and helped the Oswalds get their footing and citizenship in America.

Bucky grinned from ear to ear, "Great! Oh, and if you want to bring a friend along for my buddy that would be great." Clara glared at him skeptically, "He's a great guy, I swear. He's terribly smart and chivalrous and any girl would like him." He moved in his chair. Clara's glare must have been making him uncomfortable. "He's just very shy."

Clara rolled her eyes, "Oh alright. I'll get a friend to come."

"Great! Okay so wanna meet by the statues around six? That's when Stark is going to show his flying car."

Clara tried to be impressed by this, but for some reason she felt like she had seen better than flying cars. Once again she pushed away these thoughts, "Sure!"

"Connie Oswin?" the nurse came in the room.

Clara stood up and so did Bucky. Charming, she thought. "Well, see you later."

"Definitely," he winked at her. She quickly turned away before he could see her blush but she felt like he already knew she was. He unearthed her which made her scared since she only just met him. Plus, it seemed like he was getting ready to be shipped off for war any day now. She knew she should not get attached but there was something about him that made her want to anyway. Clara followed the nurse into her office, nervously clutching the papers in her hands.

"Come on Bonnie! We don't want to be late!" Clara cried from the doorway as Bonnie kept fiddling with her hair in front of the hall mirror.

"Oh I hate blind dates! They're the worst! Why did you have to drag me into this?"

"Because you're my only friend and he's hot."

"Hmm...let's just hope his taste in friends is as good as yours." Bonnie replied, finally leaving the mirror and walking towards the door.

"I hope so, otherwise I'll never hear the end of it. Come on! Maybe we'll even go dancing!"

The girls promptly arrived at six and stood nervously in front of one of the two statues. Bonnie clutched Clara's arm and she tried to control her own nerves by taking deep breaths. Then she saw Bucky in the crowd.

Her excitement took the best of her and she called, "Hey Bucky!" He saw her and waved, grinning as he and his friend walked towards them. Clara heard Bonnie groan as she got a better look at Bucky's friend. He was short and skinny with blond hair, but Clara thought he was cute in a nerdy way. "Shh!" Clara said to her friend, "he's really smart and sweet. Give him a chance."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Oh god, he's a twig! Why did I ever agree to this?"

Clara was beginning to get exasperated with her friend. "Please," her heart beat faster as Bucky and his friend reached them and and smiled at her, again.

"Hey Connie," Bucky stated, "this is my best man Steve." Bucky looked at Steve, his grin never wavering. Steve looked nervous. The poor lad. He briefly smiled and looked at the still grinning Bucky. Clara saw in these looks years of friendship and smiled, wishing she could have the same. She had already realized how petty and shallow Bonnie really was. And her annoyance with her had only grown after the realization, especially now since she kept catching Bonnie giving Bucky longing glances.

"This is Bonnie," Clara introduced. The tension was thick. Just then the Expo announced Mr. Stark would be showing his latest automotive achievement and Clara was thankful for the interruption. She took Bucky's hand saying, "Oh my god, it's starting!" She suddenly became very interested in seeing the flying car. Not to mention the burning in her body from Bucky's touch. She led them all the way to the front of the stage where the presentation was being held.

Howard Stark was much younger and more attractive than Clara ever imagined. He looked and played the part of a genius with money to spare. Clara became so engrossed with the presentation. She found it so compelling that this man could invent a flying car hundreds of years before they were supposed to be created. Clara knit her eyebrows at that thought. How did she know that? For all she knew this could be the start of flying cars. She shrugged the thought away as the car rose in the air and stabilized. Then there was a spark and the car crashed to the floor.

A very embarrassed Stark confidently said, "I did say a few years, didn't I?" More like a hundred, Clara thought. She stopped thinking about it, her head was beginning to hurt.

"Hey Steve why don't we treat these girls to-" Clara faintly heard Bucky say. Her head was pounding. "I'll be right back. Then we'll go dancing," he said to the girls and rushed off into the crows. Clara clutched her head. Bonnie looked at her and her pouty mood changed to worry when she saw her friend was in pain.

"Connie? What is it? What's wrong?" Bonnie asked. Clara clutched her friend's arm, rubbing her temple.

"It's just a headache. It's starting to pass. I'll be alright in a minute." The pain slowly began to fade and she stood up straight. "There we go, all better." She slightly smiled.

"Are you sure?" Bonnie asked, concern plastered on her face. Clara eagerly nodded. "'Cuz if you're not, we can just go home."

"No, no. We're gonna go dancing. It's been such a long time." Bonnie gave her a look, "I'm fine, really."

She held up her hands, "Alright, you're the nurse." Clara then remembered she still had not told Bonnie, or even her father, that the army recruited her and she would be getting her assignment soon. They walked towards the direction Bonnie saw Bucky leave in and saw him and Steve talking in the Army Recruitment building. They stopped outside it. It looked like they were having a heated conversation. Bonnie kept fussing over Clara, basically begging to go home.

Clara was becoming more annoyed with her friend, so she called out, "Hey, Sarge? We going dancing?"

Bucky turned around, "Yes we are!" She saw the boys hug each other and just Bucky came over. "Steve's gotta go home. It'll just be us."

"Okay," Bonnie cheerily replied and Clara knew she was overjoyed. Bucky took Clara's hand and he led them to the nearest place they could go dancing. When they arrived, Bonnie almost immediately was asked to dance by a tall, muscular soldier and she laughed and ran off to dance with him. Bucky turned and smiled at Clara.

"Wanna dance?" he asked. Clara eagerly nodded and he whisked her off towards the dance floor. Clara's body was on fire as Bucky held her and moved around the floor. They danced for what seemed like minutes, but they were actually one of the last couples to leave the club.

They left the club holding hands. When they got outside Clara looked at their surroundings. It was pitch dark, but that didn't matter to her. "I don't live too far from here. Maybe a ten minute walk."

"Want me to walk with you?" He said, deciding he was rather than asking.

Clara smirked, "Your confidence never wavers, does it?"

Bucky shook his head, "Never." He stepped closer to her.

"Uh-huh," Clara responded, not being able to focus on anything but how close he was to her. She was shocked at how much someone she only knew for a few hours was affecting her so much. She could barely breathe. "Let's get going then," she finished.

Bucky walked on her left, holding her hand. They walked at a snail's pace, neither one wanting the night to end. "So did you like the Expo?" 

Clara looked at his profile. "Yeah, I did. Steve seemed really sweet. I am sorry that Bonnie was so…."

Bucky gave her hand a squeeze, "Nah, it didn't even bother him. All he's thinking about is the war and not being able to join the army. Speaking of which, how did your recruitment go?"

"Oh!" Clara beamed, "It was fantastic! You are looking at the US Army's newest nurse!" She giggled causing her to blush.

Bucky laughed, "Congrats!"

"I'm so excited! Finally I'll be able to help save people! It seems like everyone around me has been."

"You'd get along so well with Steve."

She genuinely smiled, "I bet I would. Now, what about you?"

Bucky smirked, "Well, I wanted to do the same as you. Help. So I signed up. Passed. And now I'm off. The 107th. Shipping out for England tomorrow, actually."

Clara stopped walking, "Oh, Bucky. I'm so sorry. If you wanna go and spend time with your family or Steve-"

Bucky smiled at her, "No one really to say goodbye to. Already did with Steve." He stepped closer to her, "Besides, I'd rather spend it with a beautiful, smart girl."

She blushed, "Alright then." They continued walking hand-in-hand. They arrived at Clara's door and she turned towards him. "Well, this is me."

"Yeah." He took a deep breath, taking off his hat.

"So the stone soldier does get nervous," she teased.

He laughed, "Only when I'm about to kiss an amazing girl." He leaned in and gently kissed her. Clara wrapped her arms around his neck, her whole body on fire. He put his hands on her waist. They deepened the kiss, Clara running her hands through his tousled hair. They ended their embrace, both breathing heavily, their foreheads resting on the others.

"Don't forget me," Clara said, and was shocked by what she said.

Bucky smiled, "There's no way I could."

"Good." She kissed him again. "Good luck tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Maybe I'll see you around, soldier."

"Hope you do," he kissed her again.

"Bye." She said, this time breaking their close embrace. She reached in her bag and got her keys out and slowly placed the key in the lock and opened the door. She turned towards Bucky and was about to say goodbye again when he reached out and grabbed her, his hands cupping her face, and passionately kissed her. When they ended their embrace, Clara smiled and turned to go inside her house.

Bucky gave her hand one last squeeze, causing her to face him, before kissing it. She blushed and sweetly smiled, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Bye, Connie Oswin." He turned around and walked down the pathway and into the street. She watched him go, wishing she could spend more time with him, wishing she could have heard him say her real name once with his perfect, deep voice.

As a tear began to fall she walked in her apartment and rushed to her bedroom. She felt a sense of foreboding fall upon her. She sank onto her bed and thought about her perfect date with the perfect James Barnes. Clara knew she would probably never see him again. Never feel the way she did when he touched her or how easy conversing with him was again. The flirting was natural. She really liked him and now he was off to the most dangerous place in the world: Europe. More tears slid down her cheeks at the thought of him getting hurt in the war. She sincerely hoped that she would see him again and brushed her tears away from her eyes. No use in crying, she thought, not yet anyway. Then she remembered his kiss on her hand and smiled. This boy was really making an impression on her.

Every day Clara thought of Bucky and hoped that he would be okay, that he would be strong and survive, and come home. It did not even matter to her if he did not come back and see her, just as long as he was alive that was good enough for her.

A week later, Clara received a letter from US Armed Services. She had to attend training for three months before being sent off to war. They were sending her to England. England! Her home! She squealed with happiness as finished reading the letter. She may be able to see Bucky, or at least find out if he was still alive somewhere in the world. She was going home.

Her father was happy for her, but was very cautious. He reminded her to continue acting like they were from America and to use her alias. Clara saw her father express worry as he thought about his only family going to the fighting Europe. He was worried he would lose her and every day hugged her and told her how much he loved her.

The training months flew by. She was making friends with her fellow nurses who would be on the same assignment as her. Clara thought about Bucky every day and some of the nurses teased her. They all thought she had a secret lover in the war. How wrong they were. They only shared one night together, but that night was all it took for Clara to only think of him. She took the teasing well and even played along, entertaining the girls with stories about him and what he looked like.

A week before Clara would be leaving for England, her father was barely home. He apologized incessantly, wanting to spend as much time with his daughter as possible before she left, but he was almost done with a huge project at work and needed to finish it as soon as possible. He believed it would help end the horrible war.

Four days before Clara was assigned to leave, someone knocked on her door after her training. She barely got any visitors, especially since she and Bonnie became very remote after their double date. Wondering who it was, Clara slowly opened the door. There stood Howard Stark disheveled in a suit and had a sad expression on his face. She was shocked, and worried. Where was her father?

"Hello Clara, I'm Howard Stark. I worked with your father." He held out his hand.

She blinked, wondering how he knew her real name. "Hi, yes, of course," Clara stumbled, shaking his hand.

He slightly smiled, "You're probably wondering how I know your name."

She nodded, "Yeah that had popped into my mind." She then realized he was still standing outside, "Come in, Mr. Stark.

He stepped in the apartment and she closed the door. "Please, call me Howard." He sat down and Clara sat across from him. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, "Your father and I were fast friends. He began to trust me and told me all about you, your past, England, Schmidt, everything. We were working on a top secret project that was supposed to help end the war. We were creating a perfect soldier." He handed her a packet of papers containing information about the project. They were working to create a perfect soldier using a special serum. The man they were injecting the serum into was none other than Steven Rogers. There was a before and after picture of him. He was now big, buff, and yet still the geeky, sweet man. Clara was happy for him.

"Well, today was the day when we created the perfect soldier as you can see. There were people from the military, newspaper men, and scientists all watching. A man by the name of Heinz Kruger was also there. Unbeknownst to us, he was part of a group that was created by Schmidt. After the procedure, he shot the man who created the serum and many others." He took a deep breath before continuing. Clara was afraid of what he was going to say, but expected it. "He killed your father."

Clara's eyes filled with tears and began to soundlessly cry. She was alone. "Luckily," Howard continued, "Steve Rogers did stop this man, but we could not get any information from him. He is dead."

She nodded. "Thank you for coming to tell me this," she said through her tears.

Howard nodded, "Of course. I respected your father very much. He was a good friend to me." Her sobs became harder as he told her this. Howard was getting very fidgety, uncomfortable at the thought of having to comfort her.

She took in a deep breath, trying to control her sobs, "Thank you, Mr. Stark." She stood up, wanting to be alone. He immediately stood. She showed him to the door and then softly closed the door after him. She sank to the carpeted floor and sobbed.

It was dark when Clara could control her sobs and she slowly walked to the kitchen. She put the kettle on and made a perfect cup of tea. When she sat down at the small kitchen table, she looked across it and saw her father's chair. Tears began to swell up in her eyes and she cried again, her tea getting cold.

Four days later, a grief-stricken Clara began her journey back home. Nothing was keeping her in America anymore and she decided to just let the Army send her wherever they pleased. When they arrived in England she felt a glimmer of hope. She was finally home. She could begin to stop pretending about who she was and be herself.

Once she began to get used to the routine at the hospital, Clara began to help save as many men as she could. A lot of soldiers were being sent to the hospital from all over Europe, England now being a country not under constant attack. She treated each man as if they were Bucky and hoped that if he was ever injured, a nurse would treat him as kindly as she was all the soldiers that were under her care. Months after their date, Clara still thought about him and smiled at the thought of him and how he made her feel, even after seeing the horrors of war.

On August 1, 1942 Clara was sent to the southern coast of England. She was extremely close to the English Channel and Allied men came in constantly for treatment. She worked as hard as she could, sleeping as little as she could manage and helping as much as she could. Then on August 19, what felt like thousands of men came in to the hospital from ships and planes for medical assistance. The doctors were becoming overwhelmed. There were too many men to treat.

One doctor sent Clara outside the hospital where the men were crowding to assist with triage. When she stepped outside, there were hundreds of men running to the hospital for help. Clara swallowed and was about to help when she saw something out of the ordinary. She saw a man running away from the hospital.

He was wearing a brown trenchcoat and suit and appeared to be chasing a man. Clara watched him run, feeling like she had to to make sure he would be okay. That it was important to protect this man. She watched as the man ran left and then began running back to the hospital. Clara finally located the person he was chasing: a soldier in a destroyed uniform holding a gun. The soldier continued running towards the hospital, the man starting to fall behind.

The soldier flew past Clara and turned around. He saw the man had fallen behind and smiled. She could now make out his sullied uniform: he was German. He must have gotten taken up in all the commotion. The German soldier aimed his shotgun at the man.

"No!" Clara screamed and jumped in front of the soldier. In an instant she felt excruciating pain and collapsed to the ground. The bullet was lodged in her stomach. She had seconds left.

"No!" The man screamed as he reached Clara. He knelt down next to her and aimed a silver and blue stick at the soldier. His gun sparked and then the wounded men around Clara attacked him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He said, tears pooling in his warm, brown eyes. She slightly smiled at him and closed her eyes, the pain unbearable for her.

She was glad she saved this man.

The Doctor.

 _Run you clever boy, and remember me._


	2. November 22, 1963

November 22, 1963

 **Mission: Shoot President from top of building.**

Another mission. Straight-forward as always. They were letting him have more leeway as he followed their directions and completed the missions with precision.

He knew what would happen if he did not.

Since he got back in the United States, he had been feeling very nostalgic and he did not know why. Had he ever been in America before? Why did the words president, democracy, and Texas seem familiar?

He was quickly briefed about the mission before they drove him to the building where he would complete the mission. He never learned any one's name or was introduced to them. All he knew was the mission and that if he did not complete it he would experience mind-piercing pain.

Shoot president. That was all that mattered.

He climbed into the back of a truck and sat on one of the benches. Other men came in after him. They never made eye contact with him or talked with him. He did catch some giving a wary glance at his metal arm. He boringly stared at them until they looked away.

The truck began to move and he watched all the men jerk with the movement. He barely did though. He immediately stilled himself and lifted his gun to load and inspect it. Feet planted far apart on the floor in their heavy boots. Everything had to be done with precision.

His ears perked up when he heard some of the men discussing the mission as he continued to inspect his gun. He heard broken muffled sentences, the words HYDRA, scapegoat, and mob all echoing in the van. He tried to focus on the former, intently staring at the floor to try and concentrate, but his mind became muddled. He scrunched his eyes to try and make his thoughts clearer, but to no avail.

The wipe was beginning to be perfected.

He shook his head, giving up and returned to his gun. The van was quiet now. They must be getting close. The van stopped for a moment before making a sharp turn onto a bumpy road. The van constantly jolted causing him to focus on staying in one place and not moving around. Finally, the truck stopped with one last jolt.

He stared darkly at the door, waiting for them to open so he could have as much time as he could get to find the perfect spot to complete his mission. The doors creaked open and he was the first to get out.

The van was parked in a narrow alley with two long buildings on each side. The alley led to two major avenues: one that the president would be driving down and another still open for use. A perfect getaway. Get in and get out.

He saw a building's door open and began to walk towards it. He heard someone rush towards him. He kept looking at the door as they began to speak, "Walk up the stairs to the roof. There you'll find a spot to aim. When you're done, jump to the building on the other side of the van and go down those steps. The door will be open. Then get in the van and we'll be going back to headquarters." The man finished and turned around and walked away from him.

Easy enough, he thought as he began climbing the stairs. He was now alone, thankfully, and focused on the mission. As he reached the third landing he heard a door slam. He stood rigidly, hiding his gun behind him. He heard light footsteps come towards the stairs. He backed into the wall, his gun still behind him. His metal arm hidden under a black jacket with a red star on the upper left arm. He briefly wondered why he was hiding his gun and shrugged the thought away. Better to only kill the target, he thought.

Then the person came into view. It was a girl.

She was short, with dark brown hair and eyes and a pointy nose. She looked very familiar to him.

Why did she look familiar? He had never met her before. Yet he began to feel nostalgic. He scrunched up his face as he tried to remember. He blinked rapidly, trying to remember through the haze.

"Hello," she politely said as she saw him. That voice. There was something familiar about her voice. "Are you okay?" she asked, a worried look on her face.

Then he remembered something.

Her name.

"Connie?" he softly asked, still confused.

She tilted her head, "No, sorry. I'm not Connie." He became even more confused. "My name's Clara." She creased her forehead. He closed his eyes and shook his head trying to clear it. "Are you alright?" she asked again.

He made no effort to reply, he was too confused. Why was she so familiar? Why did he think her name was Connie? Had he met her before? He racked his jumbled brain trying to remember and could not. Yet there was something about her that was familiar.

"Well, I better get going. The president should be close soon." She briefly smiled before walking away and went down the stairs.

When he no longer heard her footsteps he began climbing the stairs, trying to focus only on the mission. If all went well they may not need to wipe him and he could try and remember.

Once he reached the roof he walked to the ledge and began to position himself and finish setting up his gun. He looked down and saw a huge crowd all around the street waiting to catch a glimpse of the president.

His brow knitted when he saw Connie—Clara walking into the crowd to the front. She was standing next to another girl and was talking to her. On her other side was a tall, bald man in a black leather jacket.

He looked across the road to the roof of the next building and saw a man wearing an odd purple helmet crouching on the roof. That must be the scapegoat, he thought and focused back on his aim.

The crowd got loud and he saw the car slowly driving down the road. It was a convertible. He shook his head.

Easy target.

He watched the car come closer and began to aim. He counted down until the car was just starting to near him, took a deep breath, and fired. He heard another gunshot go off after his and wondered who it was.

Then he heard screams. The president was bleeding, blood gushing out from his wounds.

He looked down and saw that Clara had fallen to the ground. The bald man knelt next to her. He saw the man lift her up and carry her into an alley. Her shirt was soaked in blood.

Had he somehow caused her to be shot? He felt a pang of guilt and he looked across the road into an alley.

He saw an odd, pointy shape in the alley walking away from the crowd holding an oddly shaped weapon. The tip of the weapon was glowing red. What is that, he wondered as it disappeared. He shrugged it off thinking it may be the effects of being wiped so much.

He looked across to see the scapegoat looking red-faced and frustrated with his hands up in the air. There were cops behind the man.

The Winter Soldier ducked and stayed low until he saw the police lead the scapegoat off the roof. He quickly stood up and began to run to gain speed to jump onto the next building. He jumped and landed on the roof with a thud, bolted down the steps, and slammed open the door leading outside.

He heard more screaming as he jumped into the van and it sped away. He knew one scream in particular was hers as she clutched to life. He knew she would not survive the wounds. There was too much blood.

He felt sad. And guilty. Was it his fault? He stared darkly into space.

A man cleared his throat and the van went silent.

No one spoke until the van stopped and they walked out of the vehicle. A group of men in white lab coats walked towards him and led him towards the lab.

He gulped, time for the debriefing.

He was placed in a chair and a young, blond haired man in a three piece suit walked up to him, his face placid.

"How do you think the mission went?" he calmly asked.

The Winter Soldier stared at him, "Fine," but he knew it had not. Other people had got hurt. _Her_. He thought that would not matter to them as the mission was completed.

"Well, you shot the president. He died. But the low profile we needed to maintain is gone. Other people got hurt. We need to stay low for a while." The man paused, "I'm disappointed in you."

How was it his fault? Yet guilt was rushing through his veins. He became upset that he disappointed this man. Did he know him? He knew where this was headed and swallowed, readying himself for the pain.

The pain. The one thing he never forgot. The one thing he never could forget.

The man stood up and turned his back from the soldier, slightly shaking his head. "Wipe him. Then put him in cryogenesis. We have to keep a low profile. Especially him."

"Yes sir," a scientist replied and began to get ready for the procedure with the help of the other scientists.

The blond man quickly left without looking behind.

The Winter Soldier clenched his fists and once they placed a mouth guard in his mouth he clenched his jaw, readying himself for agony.

He always remembered the pain. Yet, he realized he would not remember her.

He started to panic.

He began taking deep, heavy, rapid breaths and then his body jolted and he screamed.

Everything went dark.

 _Run you clever boy, and remember._


	3. December 27, 1979

December 27, 1979

She was so excited to see the concert that she forced her friends to come three hours early and there was already a crowd around the theater. Many people had their hair in spikes pointing in all different directions, ripped clothes, and lots of leather and black. She and her friends were more toned down with their black trousers and shoes, band T-shirts, and leather jackets. Not one of them had any spikes on them.

"God Clara it's bloody freezing outside!" her friend Lucy whined, "Is it really necessary to be here so early? We have tickets so we will get in!"

Clara rolled her eyes, "Live in the moment Luce! Besides you knew it was cold outside."

"Ugh. Fine. This concert better be worth it!"

"Just think, maybe _he'll_ show up. I told you that I heard him talking about the concert with his friends at the shop." Clara wiggled her eyebrows.

Lucy's eyes widened as their other friend, Jane, replied, "What! You never told us!"

Clara beamed, "Oh that's right! I was waiting to tell you when we were waiting for the concert." She laughed and Jane cracked a smile.

Lucy walked closer to Clara, "Tell. Me. Everything."

"Well..." Clara began and already saw Lucy soaking in every word while Jane looked around to make sure no one they knew was near them. "I was in the shop at the register with a customer who sent my dad into the back to get a new release book when I saw him and some of his many friends come in the shop. I perked right up when I saw them and started to listen in, just for you Luce." She looked over at Jane who was staring daggers at her. Jane hated when people eavesdropped.

"Oh stop giving me the death glare Jane, it's over now. Anyway, I heard _him_ talking about the concert and that he got some tickets-"

"How many?" Lucy asked.

"Does it really matter?" Jane asked, "He's obviously going."

"You're right Jane," Lucy replied. Jane was always getting annoyed at Lucy when it came to boys. Lucy was always finding a new crush every month and making them go crazy trying to find him and help her out. None of them worked out, but Lucy always insisted that they were all her one true love, or something like that.

"Well, then my dad came back to the register and the customer paid for the book and left. Then the guys found the comic they were looking for, some superhero thing, and left."

Lucy squealed, "Oh my god, it's fate!"

Jane and Clara both rolled their eyes. Just then a large crowd of people came up to the building and she saw a bunch of guys and girls their age. Lucy grabbed a hold of Clara's arm and asked her if she saw him. Soon, there were even more people and they were pushed to an intersection by a run-down alley. Lucy began to look uncomfortable.

"I think I see him." She nervously told Clara.

"Well, go and see if it's him! We'll stay here."

"Are you sure?" Lucy asked, with a worried look towards the empty alley.

"Yeah, you go." Lucy squeezed Clara's arm and ran off through the crowd of people to find this new guy.

Jane rolled her eyes as she watched their friend run off. "I don't know how much more I can take of her going from guy to guy and dragging us into the mess."

Clara nodded, "Anyway, how is being a biology major going?"

Jane perked up at the mention of her love, "It's _so_ much fun! It's amazing! We just dissected a sheep's brain and it was awesome! I got to see the cerebellum and the tree of life and even the midbrain and pons!"

Clara smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. She was used to her friend's elation when she began to talk about all the gross things biology majors did. "That's cool." The thought of formaldehyde stinking up the classroom made her struggle not to scrunch up her nose.

"Yeah it is! How about the amazing English major?"

"Oh, it's going well also. We are starting Austen now in my classic English lit class and I am so pumped! We finally finished up Dickens which was interesting…." she saw Jane's look of disgust, "yeah it was basically a drag. But Austen is gonna be great! I don't even need to read any of the books—"

"Even though you will."

"Yeah…" Clara shrugged, "And then we are gonna end the semester with _North and South_." Clara wiggled her eyebrows.

Jane perked up and her eyes widened, "Oh. My. God. I'm so jealous! You get to read and talk about all the trials of the wonderful, amazing, angst-ridden Mr. John Thornton! You're so lucky!"

Clara laughed, "I know! More people need to know the glorious work of fiction that is _North and South_!"

Jane beamed, "Yeah. Sometimes I wonder why I never signed up to be an English major."

Clara pictured Jane's bookshelf in her room, which was much bigger than her own, and overflowing with books. "Sometimes I do too, but then I have to hear the horror of your bio labs and the look of pure elation when you feel so inclined to tell me about them. Which, by the way, do not need to be so descriptive."

Jane shrugged, "If you want to know, you need the whole picture. You should know that, Miss English Major."

Clara rolled her eyes, "Whatever, there's no point telling you to shut up about your disgusting experiments."

Her friend beamed, "Nope," she popped. Another group of people arrived and Jane saw her cousin in the crowd. "Hey, I'll be right back I've just gotta go say hey to Julie. I promised my mum I would and she'll roast me alive if I don't follow through."

"Go, I don't even want to know what your body roasting would smell like."

Jane smiled, "Much worse than a cow's eye soaked in formaldehyde!"

Clara groaned, "Go." Jane's smile widened and she ran off while saying, "Don't move or I won't be able to find ya."

She watched her friend run off to talk to her younger cousin and looked around at the crowd gathering at the theater. Most were all decked out in leather and spikes and there were barely any other colors than black. After a few minutes, she grew bored and started tapping her foot to the Clash's song "London Calling."

Clara looked around again and this time looked down the alley. She began to turn away from the alley when out of the corner of her eye she saw a tall, dark haired man with a menacing look. His eyes were darkened with a mess of eyeliner adding to his dark appearance. She felt a jolt when she saw his left arm was gone and replaced with a shiny metal robotic arm. She was drawn to look back at his face and when she looked at his eyes past the eyeliner, she began to feel like she knew him. His blue eyes looked empty but Clara felt a jolt of electricity when they looked straight at her.

Did she? She could not recall ever meeting anyone that menacing. His eyes locked on hers again and his brow creased.

Was he thinking the same as she was? No, that could not be possible. _Don't be silly Clara_ , she told herself. She would remember someone that looked like him.

She looked away and saw an odd shape between two buildings across the crowd. She squinted and saw it was a metallic object shaped like a human. But not quite. Her eyes widened. Robot!

She began to get a feeling of fear and started looking around the crowd for a man. The Doctor. She looked back where she saw the robotic-armed man and saw he was gone. She began to wonder where he went when two words only ran through her mind, distracting her from anything else. The Doctor. She had to find him. Save him. The Doctor.

She screamed, "Doctor!" and a man in the crowd turned around to face her, wide-eyed with a puzzled expression on his face. Someone stepped on his long striped scarf as he began to take a step towards her and he fell to the ground just as a red beam came shooting towards his head.

The crowd began to scream, but not in fear. The band had arrived. No one had even noticed the red beam of light or Clara's scream. They were all screaming out of joy and excitement that the band had arrived and were getting out of their limo. Clara shook her head thinking that all these people were dunces and needed to set their priorities straight.

The man looked up at her and she thought if his eyes widened anymore they would fall out of his head. He grabbed his brown hat that fell to the ground as he fell and put it on, his gaze never moving from her face. "What concert is this?" he quickly asked.

"Ian Dury & The Blockheads and The Clash," she responded as quickly as if her life depended on it.

"Ahh! Wrong one. This one must be lost."

Clara's eyebrows furrowed as he walked past her towards a courtyard and began to follow until she tripped on a stone in the street and fell to the ground.

Then there was a loud bang and she instinctively turned towards the sound, the crowd still focused on the band's arrival. She would have been too, if the wide-eyed Doctor was not here and needed to be saved. The metallic robot had shot the fountain in the center of a courtyard behind the crowd and water began to spray everywhere. Cold water began to soak Clara, the Doctor, and some of the crowd, yet no one turned to see what was going on behind them. She turned to look at the crowd, then back to face the Doctor.

She saw him racing towards the robot and began to chase it down the street and onto another. She was going to chase them when she realized that it did not matter. She had saved him. The Doctor. All would be well...for now.

 _Run you clever boy, and remember me._


	4. December 28, 1979

December 28, 1979

 **Mission:**

He watched the letters scroll on the red and black screen.

He watched the red rectangular cursor blink after the colon and soon realized that there was no mission. He began to look around.

He was in the same room as always, or at least he thought so. There was something familiar about the room. A depressing green glow filled the room.

As always, he kept to himself and then stared at the wall losing interest in the lack of a mission. He soon closed his eyes and then a memory hit him.

He was laughing with a blond man who was taller and bigger than he was. Then he was comforting the same man but this time he was smaller and looked sickly.

"The thing is, you don't have to. I'm with you till the end of the line, pal." He was saying to the blond.

He jolted as a shock hit him and he opened his eyes to see a scientist fixing his metal arm.

Wait, what? He didn't have a metal arm, just a normal one.

His forehead creased with confusion as the scientist finished working on his arm.

Then another man entered. He was tall and blond with blue eyes but unlike the skinny small man he remembered, he had a stern and cold look to them.

The man stood before him and looked down at him. The man took a deep breath before speaking.

"When you don't think anyone is watching you is the moment everyone is...especially in your case." The man's calm voice echoed around him as two metal panels moved close to each side of his head.

He began to breathe heavily, his chest heaving with each inhalation.

He braced himself for the pain he knew was coming. The scientist put a black mouth guard in his mouth. He bit down as hard as he could.

He always remembered the pain. That was something he could never forget.

The agony.

"We cannot have you remembering this...girl," the man continued. "And it seems like she is somehow a person from your past and we cannot have you remembering that. It makes you weak. You also are beginning to remember a man. That is not good, it will weaken you more. This time, you will not remember anything and will follow our commands to the letter." He saw the man sternly look at him. "Wipe him." The man addressed the scientist, "Then put him in cryogenesis for at least ten years." He looked at the Winter Soldier directly in the eyes, "No more memories, only a killing machine. The perfect assassin."

He faintly heard the man finish, "Then we will go after SHIELD and Captain America."

That statement made red flags go up in his head. The name seemed familiar.

Then he began to feel the excruciating pain focused in his head.

Soon, but not quick enough, everything went dark.

 _Run you clever boy and remember._


	5. December 16, 1991

December 16, 1991

Long Island, New York

Clara was shivering the moment she left the warmth of her car. She was steaming with fury. Her parents had sent her to go to the store and buy bandages at eight o'clock at night. And of course the rental car they were all driving had decided to break down during the middle of the ride back from the store to the house they were renting. In the middle of the woods. Perfect.

She slammed the useless car's door closed and kicked the back tire in frustration. She grabbed her wool hat from her bag taking care not to crush the box of the precious bandages and pushed it on her head, almost covering her eyes in the process. Muttering under her breath, she began the long trek home.

Suddenly she heard a whooshing noise coming from the woods to her left and then a loud bang. She looked closer into the woods, taking care not to leave the road. She had seen enough horror movies to know what not to do in a situation like this.

Yet, the sound felt oddly familiar and she was drawn to it. She saw a faint outline of what looked like a British telephone booth. A door squeaked open and light poured out. A head popped out of the box.

It was a man. A man with hair sticking in a directions and curious eyes. He spotted Clara looking at him and stepped out of the TARDIS.

How did she know that? Her head started to pound and stopped once she cleared her thoughts. Then the man stepped out of the box and she looked at him. He felt oddly familiar. He had on a brown suit with a paisley tie and a lighter brown trench coat. He had on Converse shoes. It was an odd mixture, but somehow looked perfect on him.

"Oh, hello!" he beamed. Clara noted he had an English accent. "Whatever are you doing here?"

Clara mechanically pointed to her car, "Rental broke down. What about you? Your box thing just popped up out of nowhere."

His smile grew even larger, this time in pride. "She does tend to do that." He took a deep breath, "Well, let's see what we can do with your car. I knew there was some reason she took me here." He was speaking as though the box he came out of was alive, and Clara supposed it was. She shook her head, what a stupid thought. Deep down though, she knew it was true.

Head starting to hurt again and she distracted herself as she followed the man to her car as it worked before in stopping the pain. For some reason, she felt like she could trust this man. Once they reached the car, the man whipped out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the car. It made a brief buzzing noise and stopped. Her head ached once again and she wondered how she knew what that stick was.

Once he started talking though, the thoughts dissipated. "It seems as though the transmission's decided to go. I have some tools in the TARDIS that may help." He began to walk back to his blue box as Clara just stared at the car in confusion. He turned around when he noticed she wasn't following him. "Well come on, haven't got all night." She started walking towards him and once she reached him he must have saw her puzzled expression and continued, "I'm the Doctor by the way."

"Clara," she responded immediately, somehow compelled to get to know this Doctor. "That stick thing just told you what was wrong?"

"Sonic screwdriver."

"Oh...okay." This was just getting too weird for her. "You know what, I'm fine actually. I'll just be heading home now. Got lots to do. I can call and get the car picked up in the morning. Thanks for all your help."

The Doctor stared in shock at her, as if she had done something wrong. As if this had never happened to him before. He opened his mouth to respond but then quickly turned around when bright lights appeared on the other side of the road. "Is that for you?"

Clara shook her head, "Definitely not."

The Doctor tensed and grabbed her by the arm, "Run to the edge of the woods!" They ran together and got down onto their stomachs.

"Doctor, is this really necessary?" Clara started to protest and then she heard a motorcycle coming in the opposite direction of the lights. The car began to appear and once the motorcycle got close to the car there was a loud noise.

Gunshot.

The car crashed into a tree on the opposite side of the road with a loud bang. The motorcycle stopped and the man riding it quickly and gracefully got off. He walked towards the car and Clara noticed he was slightly leaning towards his right side, as if that side of his body weighed more. The man opened the crashed car's trunk. After rummaging in the trunk for a few moments, the driver slipped out of the car and onto the road. His face was all bloody.

Clara's eyes widened as she saw what was happening. "Doctor! We have to do something!" She started to get up and the Doctor held her down. She looked at him like he was crazy. How could he not help the poor driver? And whoever else may be in the car?

The Doctor had a sad expression on his face, "Of course, makes sense now. We can't do anything to help Clara. It's a fixed point in time. And if we do anything, we will just be killed. Stay down." The Doctor's voice was full of sorrow and Clara knew, she just knew, that if he could help he would have already been.

Pushing away her questions she focused on the scene on the other side of the road. The driver started to beg for his life as he crawled on the asphalt and the man walked over to the driver and grabbed him by the hair bringing up his face. Clara then heard a woman say the name Howard in fear.

Clara saw the motorcycle driver draw back his arm. She realized then that his arm was metal and a chill went down her spine. She had seen that arm before. The man began to pummel Howard's face and once he stopped he let go of him and Howard fell to the ground.

Dead.

The man with the metal arm then started walking to the other side of the car. In the light a nearby streetlamp was giving off, she caught a glimpse of his face.

Bucky.

Her head started to roar in pain and she gasped and clasped both of her hands to her head to try and ease the pain. And once again, she wondered how she knew his name and why he felt so familiar. Unknown memories started to flood her mind and she pushed them away, trying to focus on the scene before her.

She watched as Bucky opened the passenger door and put his arm through the doorway. He was choking the woman. Soon the sounds disappeared and he closed the door.

The woman was dead.

Bucky moved back to Howard. He picked him up, dragged him back into the driver's seat, and closed the door. Bucky then went to the trunk and grabbed out a case and closed the trunk. He hopped back on the motorcycle, started it, and sped away with the case.

Once the sounds of the motorcycle were gone, her head still pounding, the Doctor stood up. Clara got up and realized that she had been crying. Taking her hands off her head she wiped away her tears, the pain in her head slowly dissipating.

"Oh Clara, I'm so sorry you had to see this. So sorry."

Clara took a deep breath, "I understand, Doctor. Nothing we could have done. I feel like, for some reason, I knew that man."

The Doctor's expression changed from sorrow to confusion. "Now that I can see you clearer, you seem familiar. Have we met?"

Clara knew that this man felt familiar but she was confused and upset. She blamed the scene she just saw, "No, I don't believe so. Sorry this whole thing has made my brain a bit muddled."

The Doctor's expression deepened and then he shrugged it off, "Well, that's alright. Why don't I take you home in my TARDIS?"

Clara knew she should say no, but the feeling of familiarity came back to her. She knew that it was okay to go with this man and to trust him. Memories started to flood her mind again and she saw herself lying on the ground bleeding with this man holding her saying, "I'm so sorry." She saw this man with a different face telling her to run. She saw this man with another face laughing with her.

Her head began to pound with a pain she had never felt before. It was excruciating and she fell to the floor and everything went blank. She knew to trust this man.

He was the Doctor and he would save her.

Just like she was saving him.

All the time.

And poor Bucky.

She would remember him.

And he would remember her and Steve and who he really was.

This wasn't him.

Something is wrong.

 _Run you clever boy, and remember me._


End file.
